how i hate that cooing pigeon
My vices and my faults are legion
how I hate that cooing pigeon
pooping right outside my door
i cannot sleep for death entices
promises to end my vices
silencing my painful snore
and yet in vain I blindly struggle
beneath black blankets darkly snuggle
deny my essence to the core
within life's book the battle rages
against the truth of yellowed pages
scattered on the bedroom floor
she isn't here and never was
her memory a flaming buzz
is it the flame that I adore
scorched within and vilified
by endless nights wherein I've died
as pigeons cooed outside my door
the shadow of the swinging loop
the smell of two day old bird poop
it thus will end I'll bear no more
and yet I hesitate in fear
that she may somehow draw me near
engulf me in her flaming core
erase the pain of passion's past
share with me one last repast
a love, both lovers, so abhor
am I but fodder for her soul
consumed somehow yet still left whole
by a love we both deplore
John G. Lawless
©11/27/2023
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